Isabella Toride Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

So, picture this—whore, right, she’s a chameleon, a bloody marvel. Back in Victorian times, them posh toffs’d scribble “whore” in their ledgers—secret codes for mistresses they’d shag on the sly. Little known fact, that! Surprised me, it did—thought they were all stiff collars and tea. Made me chuckle, too—imagine Lord Snooty, “Oh, my *whore* today, splendid!”—ha! Proper cheeky sods.

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Then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes again. It’s Kenji. “You still in Toride?” I’m like, “Dude, you won’t believe the day I’m having!” I tell him about the fish, the old dude, the auction. He’s cracking up.

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